Thursday, November 14, 2019

Essays on Death and Suicide - Death Happens :: Personal Narrative Essays

Death Happens Brothers and sisters are rarely friends. Perhaps comrades and confidants, even inseparable-but rarely do they actually agree. Take my sister and me, for example: she knew how, in my eyes, chocolate had no rival in the bliss stakes, so she'd wait until she knew I was salivating (every hour or so) and she'd filch it and feed it to our abjectly grateful dog. She loathed grunge music, so I, in retaliation, would play my raucous selection until it reverberated off the walls. You get the idea. But we were the only two girls in the family, you see, and very close. Although we betrayed each other's secrets on a daily basis we still told each other everything. Young and naive. When I was almost four, I remember her gloating about her new boyfriend. I was indignant, invidious, so I got a boyfriend in revenge. Phantom phone calls, withered flowers in the mailbox, love notes posted to my door...until she found out "Jerome" didn't exist. I never did live that experience down. Five, six, pick up sticks...the era of the bike. She got off her training wheels before me, so I let her tires down. Seven, eight, stay up late...by nine, it was boys' germs, girls' germs...and according to me, my brothers had them with a vengeance. According to them, even germs would die if they touched me. Nine, ten, friends again. I got pocket money that year, and I bought my own chocolates, but no matter how carefully I concealed them, the dog always enjoyed them more often than I did. Just before her thirteenth birthday, my sister started walking funny, sticking her chest out and squeezing her behind in. She'd look at Mother cryptically, and ignored me completely. One day I found a tape measure discarded on her bedroom floor, and still I had no idea. It was only when I found two triangles held together by a bit of elastic that I finally filled in the jigsaw. It grew worse...she became moody...always yelling or bursting into tears. When I asked Mother what was happening, she said ominously, "Your sister's a woman now." How come she got to be a woman, while I was stuck being a girl? Then, I discovered the opposite sex and knew what she meant. My God, he LOOKED at me?

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